we spent hours talking one gorgeous afternoon. first meeting at Trump Tower, then walking over to Central Park, where we put whiskey from the flask in my backpack into her Coke can and walked around, blissed out as the sun started to set. later on we’d fumble around our conversations at a speakeasy bar, then at an arcade, and finally on a grimy sidewalk in the Lower East Side, before she went home at 11:30pm — ostensibly because she was tired but more than likely it was because we had run out of things to talk about.